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Topic: Superheroes Ltd (Read 27111 times)

"One of them can speak to me, delightful." Cranston said, a spark of glee in his eyes. "Everyone who comes and sees me is usually goggle-eyed over meeting Ultraman. Tell me, boy, tell me about yourself, I read Doctor Hoffman's notes, he was quite exceptional and I still grieve for his loss." Cranston said, his voice sometimes faltering as the ventilator struggled to keep up with the old man. With a strained hiss-pop, his voice returned.

"I think he meant for you to be his protege, as it were..." Cranston said, sparing a moment to watch the boys peck at one another. It was only natural to establish a pecking order early on. Once they came into the fullness of their powers, Van Buren wouldnt be big enough for two of them, let alone all five. "Forgive me if I am speaking of things you dont wish to be known, Hoffman was a dear friend of mine actually..."

"The suits are useful in terms of identification. They are modern Heraldry. People wear them so police and others know who are the good guys, who are the bad guys, and who is just a stupid idiot. This prevents the wrong people from being bashed. I guess you need a suit, or perhaps just a big L posted on your forehead." Ace said, addressing Zero. The old man managed a laugh.

"Indeed, indeed. It is modern heraldry now, quite right. It wasnt always that way you know. It started as a mix of cameoflage and excessive ego. If you can fly, everyone whould be able to see you, right?" he said, "Muscles look better in skin tight spandex, lets the ladies get a better look. And I dont have to say anything about the ladies in their outfits, do I Arazi?" he chuckled.

"So, lets not get into any fights now, there will be plenty of time for that later." Cranston said. "Everyone needs to get suited up, and maybe make a run through the obstacle course, get a feel for one another, remember you are all a team and will need to work together until your powers completely mature."

Arazi suited up in her normal outfit, if a suit of skintight spandex could be described as normal. The fabric was a deep red, with the extremities fading out into a blazing orange, and she wore what could only be the most hideous yellow leather go-go boots in creation. She smiled as she pulled the boots up, showing a few inches of her thigh between the hem of her unitard and boots.

"I guess I will go first, but I should let you know that I've done this course before, sort of. Last time there were more of the goon-bots, and there wasnt a bigger goon-bot at the end, but whatever, right?" she said, giving David a sidelong look that would have ignited a fireplace.

She stepped across the sensor threshold, and the three supermodel thin, department store looking mannakin robots came to life. Two rushed her headlong, pounded out a heavy cadence on the steel reinforced concrete floor. The first struck high, the second swung low, more effective tactics than most street thugs and generally petty criminals used, even those who worked in gangs. Arazi did a backwards somersault, avoiding both attacks, and showing her gymnastic training.

She sprung forward as the two goon-bots reevaluated their failed attack while the third moved quickly to flank her. The lead bot stumbled as she pounced hands first on its shoulders, using it as a vault-horse. The second robot collapsed as she delivered a punishing blow to it's head. It crackled and the head sheered off. The goon-bot staggered and fell to the floor, headless and sparking. A fast reverse sweep attack took the second bot off of its feet, and a quick thrust kick dislocated its left leg, its circuitry recognized a fight ending injury and the bot ceased moving. The third lunged and tacked Arazi, driving her into the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her.

Heat billowed from her hands as she channeled xeo energy into the carapace of the bot. The plas-steel bubbled and ran like wax, and the bot lurched as its internal systems overheated. It collapsed on top of her, streaming molten plas-steel down her arms and chest. She rolled the bot off of her, gasping for breath and slinging the semi-liquid off of her body.

"d**n, must've upgraded them or something." she said rising to her feet. Nearly thirty feet from the threshold, she found the chasm, nearly another thirty feet wide. Jumping the distance between two buildings, or across a narrow street. She took a breath and cursed softly. If she could only fly like some of the other xeos, but that wasnt in her repetoire.

She took a running start and leapt as far as she could, extending her power as much as possible. She focused the heat into a tight cone behind her, expelling a cloud of superheated air and flame, in the fashion of a horribly primitive and inefficient jet engine. She hit the opposite side of the chasm and rolled, the cone of heat extinguished.

She looked at the wall of flame with mild disgust. One section of the wall flickered, and the flames receded, her hand extended in a warding submission gesture. Wordlessly she stepped over the burners. Easiest part of the obstacle course.

The guardian lunged forward, not waiting for her to enter its zone. With an iron fist it caught her beneath the arm and slung her across the floor and into the wall. She gagged with the pain of the hit, her hand drawn to her ribs. "Dammit, some training bot." she said, staggering to her feet.

She vaulted over a second attack, her kick failing to damage the head. The guardian rotated, extending a three chain flail. Arazi took a step back, obviously surprised by the machine. She dodged barely in time to avoid att three chains as they swung at her like the end of a whip. She grabbed one as the bot recoiled the chains. A flash of heat welded the chain to the floor, raising a foul smelling cloud of metal vapor and slagged concrete. The bot tugged and the servo motors whined as it tried to draw in the third chain, but was quite firmly welded to the floor.

Non-flusted the bot launched itself foreward with the heavy gait of a pro-football linebacker. The punch smashed through Arazi's defences, and smashed her across the room again. Liquid metal dripped from its iron fist, the fingers now semi-fused. Arazi lay still, fear caught her and she started to shake.

"Dammit, woman...," Zero muttered under his breath, and dashed into the training course. As he passed the sensor line, three new robots emerged from slots in the walls, stepping over the wreckage of their fallen metal compatriots.

Zero slid like a baseball player onto home plate, kicking one robot's legs out from under it and giving it's eye-sensors a smashing kick. As he leapt up from the stop, he grabbed the second by it's metal torso. The thing attempted to grapple him, extending it's chromed limbs around his shoulders.Zero grinned. "Didn't know I've done this before, did you?," he said, as the robot's carapace buckled from the inside out, spears of chilly ice smashing outward and causing the robot to collapse.The man in blue whirled to meet the third robot, and, with little fanfare, smashed it down with a fist coated in a heavy gauntlet of rime.

He dashed forward toward the wall of fire.Kneeling at it's edge, he put his palms against the ground. There was a soft snapping crackle in the air as a thick layer of ice and frost spread across the floor like flowing water. As the ice met the flames, it steamed and bubbled, and splashed into a burst of water, causing the wall, for a moment, to give forth small coughs of fire rather than a whole mass.Zero stood, and prepared to jump through the periodic fires, but almost as he leapt, the flame found itself again, and the wall burst up into full height."F**k!" he shouted. "Gonna' have to do this the hard way."

Flexing, the thin man folded his arms across his chest like an ancient pharoah, and vaulted into the air, spinning like an acrobat. As he fell into the fire, his body was encased in a cocoon of ice.

He fell through, ice-coffin shattering on the ground. Panting, he faced up the Guardian-bot, which rotated it's torso to face him. Melted to the floor, it could only go so far, he reasoned.Zero and the bot circled each other like boxers. The bot took a swing, servoes whining, which merely scorched it's knuckles in the firewall.Zero sneered, and raised a hand. The air within his fingers began to congeal into a chilly mass, and then a long, thick blade of ice. He fired the bolt of ice straight into the joint of the thing's arm, creating a shower of sparks. He fired a second, and a third bolt, both of which thudded strongly into the guardian's thick chest-plate.But then, the congealing stopped, water rapidly condensed across his palm, and he sank in exhaustion, drawing in huge breaths, head swaying woozily."D-d-d**n," he gasped.

"This is why I think obstacle courses are a bad idea." Perceptor said, tapping cigarette ashes on the floor. "Things like this happen, someone gets hurt. All fun and super-games right."

"I guess that means that your not going to run the course?" Spruance asked.

"Did they train you to be oblivious?" Perceptor asked. :Okay, technically I am a xeo, I can see auras, have a good grasp of telepathy, and some TK, that telekinesis to you. I dont fly, cant create fire, ice, lightning, or softserve icecream. Do you get my drift, G-Man?" Perceptor said acidicly.

George nervously cleared his throat and raised his right hand rather timidly.

''I have a similiar problem. My only gift are my enhanced empathic powers that allow me to perceive the hidden emotions of others and manipulate them. Apart from that,I can't do much more than your average norm. This means I'm not going to come out in one piece if you run me through those killer droids.''

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

Ace thought about it for about 10 seconds. He then took a deep breath.

"I guess you both need some kind of armored or padded suit, kind of like Dark Knight wears. You are playing the game, you need the right equipment. I mean you are going to be around to find this ...xeo. You might find him without someone with combat active powers right there. That could result in more than a mere wedgie. "

He looked around, seeing that others were actually paying attention to him. He managed to conceal his suprise. "Even if you are just "on the sidelines" or "retreating", people and things are going to be bashed about by this xeo. You might be caught by debrie or other stuff. "

"And you", pointing at the Empath, "need to stay alive, and hopefully unhurt, long enough to be helpful in subduing this Xeo. You need line of sight right? Your talents could even make combat a non op. "

George looked at the young super with a new respect. Clearly a born leader,this one. Certainly far more suited to lead their little team,then either the dour Perceptor or unruly Zero.

''Yes,that would be indeed nice for all of us. I take it you can make this possible?''

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

"Yeah, about that," Perceptor said, disengaging the simulator, and shutting down the guardian robot II. "we've actually got two options there. Everyone thinks that Cranston's Concern only makes toys and hawks Ultraman merchandise. It does that, to be sure, but it does alot of other things."

"The UVB is financed by the Concern, and they do alot of research and development, along with the dedicated staff here and at six or seven other different sites. We can try suiting up into some highly experimental proto-mecha wonder suit and try to hang with the uber-xeos, or we can stick with something a little more Dark Knight than Iron Man. There are several experimental vehicles in the garage, Ultramobiles that didnt make the style cut, and I think I'll take my chances in one of those." he said.

"Besides, you really can't smoke when you're wearing a bucket on your head, can you?" He stubbed out his cigarette on the control panel, and tossed the butt on the ground.

Cranston looked up. His eyes shown with a greater intensity. "Ahhh. Finally," he said softly. The Technie nodded nervously to him. This was the important test. It was time to see the measure of this young man.

Like clockwork, the three drones poured out of the wall. They charged him.

"Oh come on. The test is still on?"

They tackled him in much the same way as the others had been tackled, and stopped cold. One actually bounced off him.

Being a good student, he automatically followed the rules of the test, even though he knew they were in some danger. It was instinct for a school geek like him.

He simply grabbed the two drones who were right there, and "gently" through them about 12 feet into the walls on their respective sides.

"Ah good," Cranston thought. He knows that a punch from someone with his strength would simply remove a human's head. The wall trick was something he had used, as the diffused impact from the wall would be painful and stunning, but generally not too traumatic.

He hooked a foot in between the robots legs and did a lifting hackysack like kick, off to the wall.

He lifted off slightly, flying towards the "jump the building obsticle".

With a tunk! a red disk on a pole popped up. The red disk had a bullseye like paint job, with a target button in the center. Without thinking, he pushed the button. Tunk! a new target appeared from the right side wall. He flew and tagged it. Tunk! another appeared on the ceiling. Tag. Tunk! Tag. Tunk! Tag. .....

Cranston nodded. This "Ace" was not a fast flyer, nor excessively agile, not even as fast and agile as he was at about same age, but his score was acceptable. The boy was smart, cutting angles and using gravity, to reach targets faster. He needed more obsticle practice to work on his turns. He could even master the trick of catching falling people without killing them eventually.

After the geen disk popped up, he flew to the fire wall. He paused momentarily. He took a big breath. He flew though.

Cranston smiled a smirk. Just because it could not injure you, did not mean it didn't hurt. And the boy was smart enough to take a deep breath before breaking through. He realized the heat would suck the air out of his lungs or burn his interior lungs. He was either wise beyond his years or knew his science.

Ace did an flying impact tackle (push tackle) upon the Drone menacing Zero. The drone flew off and hit the far wall hard. It even broke into a gratuitous number of pieces. Ace hovered there, his momentum broken.

Wham.

The drone his presence called forth had knocked him to the ground with a downward smash. Wham! Wham! Wham! the drone relentlessly hammered the boy. He held his arms up defensively over his head. There was no way for Zero to manuver around to get a shot at this bot, given the flame wall and the postioning.

Cranston noticed that the arms of the drone were being "dented" by the impacts upon the boy. His mind whirled. Could the boy not be invunerable? Is the impact shock too much for him to deal with? Could he not get leverage? What would he have done in that situation?

Ace could not get out from under the kinetic onslaught. While they did not injure him, they did hurt slightly and pin him down. But he had other options. He released his strength and reformed the matrix into fire. He had seen the effect of fire before, and his fire was not near as strong as hers, but he had a plan.

He reached up, his hands glowing an intense red. One hand reached for the obvious (to him) heat sink, the other for the chest casing. The drone's casing melted slightly, just enough to begin a breach. He unleashed the heat into the chest casing. It took a few moments, but combined with the overloading sink, causing the malfunction he was looking for. "I mean, who is stupid enough to put a motherboard in the head.. the chest is better armored, he thought". He could feel coolant gushing and countering his heat. Still he reached in, after a moment found his prize. With a florish, he pulled away from the now inert bot. He turned to show the control room the two slightly melted motherboards he had pulled out. He could see the two techs applauding.

Cranston sat back and adjusted his O2 flow. A few monitors were beeping rudely, as his heart race and metabolic levels had increased to a level his doctors did not like to see. He was excited. He might be "The One".

George's jaw dropped open. Ace's dramatic little rescue of Zero and Arazi had been an amazing spectacle,one that his mind was still struggling to process.

With a supreme effort of will,he managed to pulled himself together. ''Jesus'' he muttered to Perceptor. ''With that kid on your team,I doubt old Bucket Head is going to be much of a problem. Did you see how the droids just bounced off him?''

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

"That's great if buckethead sticks to body checks and haymakers." Perceptor said. "But I've got a bad feeling about this one. I see too many pokey bits on that suit of his, makes me think of weapons."

"Cheer up man!" Arazi said, walking with a distinct limp, Zero a heathly distance away from her. "The six of us, we can take him. Dont worry about me, the knucklehead landed a lucky shot, that's all. I'll be fine in the morning. Just a little bruising."

*****"That's my boy," Cranston said, his eyes gleaming in the pale light of the monitors. "Good technique, and good power..." he chuckled, drawing the attention of one of the nurses.

"Thermoablative reinforced polymer carbide." The scientist said, holding up an articulated vest of black...plastic? The full suit resembled a suit of police riot armor, molded matte plates with dense mesh between, no more than 15 pounds of weight. "It is one of the new materials that the Concern has been developing over the last six years. It resists temperatures up to eight hundred degrees before loosing structural integrity, while the molecular structure of the layers actually channels heat outwards from hotspots. Its not very useful, say in a raging bonfire, but against one of Arazi's heat bolts, or a flamethrower it offers good protection."

"It can also resist kinetic attacks up to that of a parabolic 9mm round at short range. Punches and kicks dont damage it, and even if Ace hit you full force, it would send you flying, but unless he can generate 16,000 PSI of force it wont crack, and neither should you." He said.

"In theory, or in actuallity?" Spruance asked, feeling the fibre mesh between his fingers.

"Well, mostly in theory. It stands up well in ballistics tests but its hard to simulate physical attacks with hydraulics, and we cant get Superman in here for impact testing." the scientist said.

"I'll take one, no doubt." Spruance said, "along with the keys to one of those spiffy hover APCs that Cranston keeps in the sub-basement."

"As long as I can smoke while wearing it I dont care." Perceptor said, "Does that hover thing have a good size mutant blaster on it?"

"Well, since you asked..."

*****Spruance's cell phone rang, it chimed in the catchy tune of the Cranston Concern jingle. He answered while the scientist explained the usage of armor defeating rounds, concussion rockets, and the benefits and drawback of a car with a jet burner in the rear bumper.

"Lets suit up quick, Bucket head has made an appearance out in the Coal Harbor part of the city. The hover-tank should get us walkies there in ten minutes, crossing the bay. You fliers, its up to you to get there first." Spruance said, closing his phone.

He took one of the suits and donned it with some assistance. "Prime opportunity people, lets move move MOVE MOVE!" he shouted with the practiced skill of a drill instructor.

His heart thumping like a drum in a chest that was suddenly slick with sweat,George hurriedly put on one of those suits,not without some difficulty.Barley suppressed panic tended to that to a guy. When he'd finally managed to more or less adjust it correclty around his frame,he walked towards Perceptor and moistened lips that had suddenly gone dry

His voice slightly quavering,George begun to speak. 'Er,Perceptor,what do you think our odds of surviving an encounter with Buckethead are like? It's not like either of us can encase him in ice,burn the flesh off his bones,or send him flying with a well placed blow. I'm beginning to wonder if we're more of a liability than a help,out in the field.''

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

Ace waited at the exit ramp of the underground garage. He should be flying on ahead, but he is standing there adjusting his glove idlely. He is waiting for the crew to assemble itself and then stuff its plastic covered hides into the UltraVan. Sure he could fly there fast and alone. He could also become a statistic just that fast, not knowing anything about who he was fighting.

"Kid get going..." came a yell from the area of the car. Ace could not tell who.

"I'm waiting for you to all to get going. If someone thought I could take this guy alone, they wouldn't of assembled all of you. Sure I am going to get there first, but you are only going to be a couple of moments behind me. " He then adjusted the little head set radio they had given him.

Ace took to the air, slowing gaining altitude. Nothing was worse than flying into a power line or a phone line... or more embarassingly - a light pole. As the "car" "flew" out of the ramp, Ace flew forward. He pressed the speed, and was suprised that the Ultra-craft was not that far behind him. The Siren and Red Light seemed to be working, though Ace thought he heard something about the traffice control system.

They soon came upon the area the Xeo was sighted. Nothing obvious... yet.

"Jeez, turn that racket off!" Arazi said as the hover-tank skimmed across the surface of the bay. The ride was similar to driving a sports car with the suspension and wheels of a shopping cart. The entire device vibrated and shuddered, but it was quite fast, clocking nearly 70 MPH over the widest part of the bay. Perceptor scowled at the upright steel housing that seperated the turbine engine from the crew compartment. The engine was whisper quiet, drawing on a steady supply of aviation grade jetfuel to feed it.

The polyceramic rotors that created the air cushion under the craft, and the vectored thrust to accelerate and maneuver were another matter all together. The ducts vibrated the worst, making the contraption seem moments from shaking itself to pieces. The siren and the lights went out, much to Spruance's dismay.

"You really are a wet blanket for being a fireball flinging chick." he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

*****

The air grew noticably more foul as Ace entered the Coal Harbor area, he could almost taste the hydrocarbons in the air as clogged scrubbers failed to clean the emissions of the refineries below. A dull roar and a black and orange ball of flame rose to the south, near the trainyards. A second pall of black smoke hung in the air, previously obscured by the perpetual haze of the area.

Buckethead, for lack of a better name, hung motionless in the air. He was clad in a suit of some black material, with some flashing of chrome. A corona of xeo power flared around him, it wasnt some jet or other hypertech device keeping him floating...he was actually flying like that. A staff hung loosely in his left hand, a strange fluted design.

He pointed the end towards a storage tank and a lance of bright light erupted from the end, piercing the steel skin of the storage tank and igniting the contents, creating another eye-searing orange blast. Buckethead seemed oblivious or immune to the heat.

Ace gained some altitude quickly as he saw the casually caused explosions. It allowed the hovercraft to make the range. His mind whirled. The little ball came up black as it stopped. It was probably just a focus, but maybe we could get lucky.

*Ace to crew, Ace to crew... I need some ranged stuff from you guys. Wait for my move. Then, Fire - hit him. Zero - cover the prize in as much ice as you can, if I get it away from him." Ace took two or three hyperventilating breaths. "Mark". Then he moved. He dove, not for Buckethead but his staff. He poured on all his speed plus gravity's acceleration. He was counting on speed and suprise (with a pull of super strength) to seperate the prize from him. Unaware the mike was still on, he quiety whispered, "os**tos**tos**tos**t" as he dived. Then he was quiet as he approached.

"And Dad says watching too much Animal Planet won't do me any good..." he thought. He struck like a raptor in flight, high and from the sun's angle (not that it was really that sunny on this side of the bay). He was right on target... the staff. If he was lucky it would reduce his powers. If he hit it. If he could get it away. If. If. If. *WHAM* he hit the field surrounding "Bucket Head". It was like slamming into a wall of water. The non articulated thought of "force field" was mashed through his head. Literally. He was slowed greatly, but he still managed to reach the staff. He angled slightly. Using his strength and his rotational momentum, he was able to strip the staff away. Once he moved outside the force field, his speed returned.

Ace spiralled away, not in full control of his flight. He managed to throw the staff over his backside into the ground.

The staff was thrown into a pile of railway iron, imbedding halfway through the pile (obviously slipped between).

Ace "spun and fell" a bit farther, mostly to avoid the helmet head's attention. He began an arc up. If it worked once, and if he was distracted, maybe it world work again.

Meanwhile,back in the Hovercraft,George lifted one of the windows and peeked his head out. What he saw didn't exactly reassure him. Ace was clearly having a hard time with BucketHead. The kid needed some help fast if he was to survive this airborne encounter with the crazed xeo encased in metal.

'Ok,George,time to do your thing',he muttered to himself,trying to work up enough courage for the dangerous risk he was about to take very soon,much sooner than he liked. But that couldn't be helped. It was either that or just sit on his ass and watch idly as Ace battled for his life. This was the kind of thing that Dr.Hoffman would have done for him.

Reaching his hand over the pilot's seat,he tapped the man on his right shoulder and shouted his request over the roar of the vehicle's engines. 'Hey,could you try to fire something at that loony so that you can draw him close enough to the Hovercraft for me to demonstrate my little trick to him? 8 or 9 feet would be nice. It's about time to give ole Buckethead a taste of the Empath.''

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

"Excellent trick, boy." buckethead said in a menacing metallic growl, followed by a pop and hiss. "But too slow." he folded his arms in close to his body, and dropped after Ace, falling like a meteor that was intended to crush the hero's avian flight maneuver. Ace felt a shadow pass over him, instinctively he knew that the villian, of that there was no longer any doubt, was close behind him. All too many times he had felt that sensation, that impending feeling that come a moment before he was ungraciously lifted from his feet and deposited head-first into a school trash bin. Except this time, it wasnt a jock bully, and the steel rails and iron-hard railroad cross-ties were no trash bin.

*****Arazi grabbed a cumbersome looking weapon from the weapon-locker, a recessed bay perhaps eight inches deep and as long as a rifle. She popped the top hatch of the hovercraft, steadying herself as the craft took to the land again. The air howled as the craft rocketed across rail tracks and switching yards. She pointed the bulbous nose at the villian as he sped after Ace. She felt a sick lurch, she had never actually faced another xeo in battle, just training droids and petty thugs.

The weapon expelled itself in a roar of compressed air, launching a weighted net across the trainyard. Buckethead was thrown off balance as the net twined around his legs, and his line of attack against Ace was fouled. The black clad villian pulled away from Ace, cutting the net away with what looked like a laser scalpel in one of his fingers.

"You know, we're all just fraggin nuts..." Perceptor said, looking between a riot-grenade launcher and a long range stun gun.

''Allright'',George said,choosing to ignore Perceptor's comment,even as his own mind screamed at him that what he was about to attempt,was nothing short of sheer sucidal lunacy. 'You've managed to grab the psycho's attention. Now we hope that he falls for the bait and comes swooping towards us. When he's about 8 or nine feet away,I'm gonna hit him with a crockload of of fear and uncertainty. Let's see how scary he is when I'm messing with his emotions.''

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

Zero lurched to his feet off the shuddering floor, and swung himself halfway out of the top hatch. He could now see Buckethead (funny how these names became official) putting the smackdown on the flying kid."@!#$, man. Can you slow this thing down?!" he shouted, and hurled a heavy glob of ice in the metal fiend's direction, where it shattered very far off the mark.Perceptor offered him a heavy-looking mass of gunmetal."I don't wanna' use a gun. I never have, never going to!" spat Zero, firing a large shard of rime which missed again. "Bad memories."He sent a volley of sharp ice daggers in Buckethead's direction.

Remembering Ace's instructions, he hunted for the area he had seen the staff fall. There it was, a pile of steel girders and half-stripped logs.Shutting his eyes in concentration, Zero's fingers clawed as he outstretched his hands towards the pile, his body shaking with exertion. There was a noticeable drop in temperature, and the air around the pile became foggy and dense.Zero gave a hoarse shout, and the air around the pile (and the staff) froze solid in a weeping mass of jagged, irregular ice."s**t, man. Takes a lot out of you," he growled.

Ace put on as much speed as he could. "BucketHead" nearly had him, but the rest of the group distracted him. He slalommed between flaming oil tanks and non flaming oil tanks in an attempt to lose BucketHead (or at least his line of sight). Fear added speed to flight. It seemed to work. He was panting. he was leaning flat against a non explosive building, fifteen feet up, covered by the roofline. He slid a sly look around, and managed to see BucketHead floating there, with his back to him. Ace could barely see the Hovercraft's trail off to the side, closing slightly with him.

The villian cast off the remnant of the webgun and looked towards the speeding hovercraft. The craft was fast, but it was throwing the ice-man's attacks off the mark badly. Too much of that sort of action would leave him exhausted, easy pickings. Falcon-boy had escaped, weaving between the tanks, vanishing from his vision. Even the enhanced vision offered by the visor couldnt penetrate the thick smoke from the burning tanks, or the residual amounts of trace elements floating in the air. In a flash-freeze, the stockpile of trainrails that held his powerstaff was frozen.

He uttered a mechanical curse, his voice synthesized by the mask and the pop-hiss of the air regulator. The air outside the mask must be certainly foul for the device to be making such a racket. A quick check to the spectrometer showed near lethal amounts of CO2, and a melange of other petroleum based pollutants.

It was a simple thing, adjusting the balance of xeo-energy, to resonate even through the mechical shell. He pivoted and accelerated towards the hovercraft in what looked like a game of chicken. There was no doubt in his mind as he accelerated, reaching a speed that Ace could hardly dream of outside of a dive.

Only seconds seperated the two from what could be a critical, and lethal impact...

Now was the moment were everything hung on a very slender thread. If George and his companions were to survive this encounter with Bucket Head,he had to act faster than the crazed madman hurtling towards the hovercraft like some great bird of death.

Flipping off his emotional shield with greater alacrity than he had ever done,George forced himself to focus on the looming form of Bucket Head that was rapidly expanding to fill his view at an alarming rate. He could feel it now,Bucket Head's maddened urge to slay them all.... It emanted from the psychotic xeo like some toxic black cloud,invading every cell of his brain with it's dark,murderous urges.

George focused all his concentration on the blazing core of that terrible rage and fury,willing his own emotions to shape and manipulate it. The tremendous fear and near panic that assailed him,he gathered all of that and hurled it at the seat of Bucket Head's homicidal wrath, greatly diluting the other's resolve to do them harm with the naked desire to flee and live. For all their sakes,he hoped it had been enough to halt Bucket Head's flight of destruction...

Logged

“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson